has something important to communicate. "I have been wishing to see
you," she said. "M. Vergniaud has taken me into his confidence. He has
formed a serious attachment to Miss St. Clair, and wishes to make her
his wife. It is a splendid alliance," she continued, warming with her
theme: "if he had asked for my daughter I would give her to him
blindfold. He belongs to one of our old families. You should see his
house on the Avenue de Montaigne. Have you never seen him driving with
his superb horses in the Bois de Boulogne? He has an estate with a fine
old château in Touraine, a family inheritance. His character and habits
are unexceptionable too," she added by way of parenthesis. "It is not
often that you find all that in a man of twenty-six. So handsome
besides!"

"True," said I, "but you forget Mr. Denham."

"On the contrary, I remember him too well to conceive the possibility of
his being a rival to René Vergniaud."

"But did you mention him to M. Vergniaud?"

"Yes, and he was greatly disturbed at first, but when I told him that he
had no expectation of marrying for two or three years to come, he
laughed and said it was of no importance. M. Vergniaud would like to be
married in a few weeks, as is the custom with us, but I suppose it will
take longer to adjust the preliminaries on account of her parents being
across the Atlantic. What dowry has my little jewel?" (The inevitable
question, always put with as much simplicity and directness as if one
were asking the time of day.)

"I do not know," I replied. "It is so contrary to all our notions. I do